


The Side Effects of Conditional Immortality

by Nephilia_Hive



Category: Super Meat Boy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Death, Delusions, Fluff, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Multi, POV Second Person, Polyamory, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Temporary Character Death, Unreliable Narrator, Vomiting, eventually lol, like it happens over and over again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nephilia_Hive/pseuds/Nephilia_Hive
Summary: Dr. Fetus comes face to face with the consequences of becoming a god.
Relationships: Dr. Fetus/Bandage Girl, Dr. Fetus/Meat Boy, Dr. Fetus/Meat Boy/Bandage Girl, Meat Boy/Bandage Girl
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. Praesepe

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags, they might update! I will also put a trigger warning in the notes here if there's something seriously fucked, which there will be later on * cough * as you can see from the tags

You’re doing it again.

Every time you feel anything less than narcissistic confidence, you hurt others. But after you single-handedly caused the rapture, there’s no one left to terrorize except your adversary and his damned family, saved by their regenerative abilities. At least you know there will always be someone to be your punching bag, even if it’s _them._ You are particularly attracted to the idea of striking fear into the heart of Meat Boy himself. 

You simply can’t help it, can you? It feels too good to practically dangle his loved ones over his head, taking what he loves from him, stringing him along, sending him on a wild goose chase, all because of you. You love it. Kidnapping Nugget is the crowning achievement of your wicked plots. Not only are you causing pure mental _suffering_ to Meat Boy AND Bandage Girl, but Nugget’s innocent naivety makes it far too simple to capture her! It isn’t as though the couple doesn’t notice when she’s gone. You’ve made sure to make it incredibly obvious when you take their offspring, either always in their view, or after a direct attack on them, just as a metaphorical spit in the face.

And yet… you might be regretting this method.

You’ll find someone else to blame your shortcomings on eventually, as we all know. You contemplate who to pin this on, as you evade your cleverly placed saws and spikes. Meat Boy is hot on your trail, only ever slowed down by his numerous faults and miscalculations that leave him in pieces on the dewy grass of the grove. Bandage Girl isn’t far behind either, closely following her loving husband. She gets a front seat to each death of his, and is able to avoid making the same mistakes; And it’s for this reason, that she gets close enough to tackle you, sending you to the ground and Nugget into the air, whom she is quick to catch. 

A long crack forms on the face of your jar, and worse yet, you feel a familiar pain in your stomach. You sneer at them after picking yourself up. Meat Boy steps in front of his wife and daughter, protecting them. You’ll be sure to punish them for interfering, with a sour gaze, a middle finger and more, but while you’re halfway through reaching for the mini saw in your coat pocket, you cough a cloud of ethereal smoke, with colors shifting through aquamarine and pale greens, leaving the taste of medicine in your throat as it escapes. 

Time slows for you, your eyes widening in horror at this unpleasantly distasteful situation you more or less invited. Bandage girl takes a few steps back, cradling Nugget protectively. Meat Boy’s momentary confusion shifts to match your terror, and he opens his mouth to speak but you’re quick to throw a smoke bomb directly into his face. Turning around, you dash as quickly as you can back to your lab, berating yourself in your head. 

_Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. You waited WEEKS for the chance to blight their miserable fucking lives again, and it’s ruined. Worse yet, they SAW you. They WATCHED you. They watched you run with your tail between your legs at a mere cough._

You don’t have long to chastise yourself as you hear him, he’s running after you. The disgusting squelching noise of wet meat as he gives chase. He needs to learn to mind his own fucking business. If you weren’t busy making your escape, you’d be knocking his teeth out for pushing his limits with you. You almost manage to utter a profanity when another coughing spell overcomes you. The clouds are quickly filling the jar, clogging your vision. You’re _so_ close though, you’ve probably got enough distance between you and that dolt to smash your hand to the sensor and lock the door behind y- 

The wall of the lab meets your face earlier than expected, your protective jar shattering, tumbling back and sending your unborn body into the dirt. There’s a piercing in your chest as the crystals break your skin, forcing a yelp from your mouth. Your vision is still blurry, even as the clouds dissipate into the sky, but you can see the red silhouette of that skinless bastard standing over you. It tears you apart inside in more ways than one, watching him. He doesn’t even know how badly it hurts, how long it’s been going on. The last thing you need in your life is a pitiful look, especially from one of the last people left to torture. What kind of life would you be leading if you were to get nothing more than a sorrowful gaze whenever you so much as _attempt_ to traumatize him? Then again, there’s no guarantee he’d pity you. You brought this on yourself, or… Well... “You” from the fractured timeline did. Every timeline’s Meat Boy expresses the same level of annoyance with you as always, save for when you were a god. You can tell he tires of your antics, there’s only so much you can do to get under his skin now… Well, lack thereof. 

Another mineral, larger than the last, bursts from your chest, he seems taken aback by it, jumping back before leaning closer to examine you. Lovely, why doesn’t he show you how fucking great his well developed legs function as well? Even with your vision going dark, it almost appears as though he’s reaching for you. If the blood hadn’t already filled your throat, you would’ve been calling him _so many_ expletives at the moment.

You flip him off one last time before you succumb to the bismuth.

You’re back in your bed, out of your mecha. You’ve got another panging migraine, and the light filtering in from the window in your base makes it that much worse when you open your eyes. With a frustrated growl, you pull the thin blanket over your trembling form. It does little to ease your pain, but it’s the most you’ll be doing for now. The failure leaves a bitter aftertaste, one you don’t want to confront the feelings behind, as you would much rather be working on a cure for your condition. You should get on that actually, get out of bed, make some coffee, analyze the bismuth crystals and smoke you’ve collected and maybe... 

Maybe… At a later date. You just want to sleep for another fourteen hours or so.


	2. Algedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Fetus falls ill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhmm emeto warning for this :flurshed:

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The ticking of the grandfather clock permeates through your brain. A pulsating grows, creating waves in the expanse of stars and darkness you reside in. Each ripple practically shakes your body every time it washes over you. You’re walking along an ever-changing path, one filled with sharp turns and spiraling deadends, clouded by fog. You feel a heartbeat coming from somewhere outside your body as you creep along the glistering road. Through the haze, you can almost make out some sort of large mass, looming in the distance. 

“Are you alright?” His voice echoes inside your head, violently jerking you back to the present moment. Shaken from your daze you’re met with Meat Boy, standing in the front lawn of his measly cabin… That can’t be right though, earlier you were setting off to go torch down the forest, as a means of enacting revenge on those disgusting rodents for tearing apart your lab. Just this morning, you had gone down to continue your research, coffee in tow, and everything in the sector that held your bismuth and findings had been torn apart.

Despite your top-notch surveillance systems, they’re rarely needed due to your expertise in deduction, or rather, how poorly your nemesis and his family covers their tracks. If there’s blood on the ground, Meat Boy. Calamine? Bandage Girl. It’s a fairly straightforward method. Judging by the smashed window and lack of sufficient evidence pointing to the couple, it’s clear this was done by something with a newfound grudge, and that could only be those disease-ridden animals who stole your Big Slugger. You know they’re still out for blood, they might even be aware of your condition... Yes, that’d point to this being none other than sabotage!

All your hard work, all gone to waste! It had been a royal pain in the ass to clean up too, what with all the shards of glass and preservation fluid. You might as well take this anger out on Meat Boy now that you’re here, even with how grossly unprepared you are due to the circumstances.

“ _Excuse_ me?” You jeer, tightening your grip on the trigger, the flare below the head of the flamethrower sparking to life. Meat Boy noticeably tenses, putting his hands up defensively. He takes a few slow steps to the side, half-circling you, keeping your eyes locked on him the entire time.

“I don’t know, you just seem out of it today, and after what happened a few days ago I-”

“YOU’RE going to be the one OUT OF IT once I _KNOCK_ youout of it,” you shout, taking aim at Meat Boy. His hands lower, your crimson target takes a small step forward, before he dashes towards you. You pull the trigger, but he’s quick on his feet, veering to the left as you spray his path, setting the grass ablaze. The door to their home flings open in your peripheral vision, Bandage Girl stepping out. She looks onward at the tussle happening, initial confusion replaced by panic, and she runs to help, slamming the door behind her. 

She’s on you in seconds, trying to wrestle the firearm from you, but you’re faster, shoving the nozzle to her head and melting through. With your back turned, Meat Boy strikes the glass of your casing, a crack stretching along half the jar. Pointing the armament at him, he forces it upwards, shoving the barrel unceremoniously against your face, worsening your mecha’s integrity. Frenzied, you clutch onto the gun until your mecha’s fists whir and strain as the fire plumes into the air. Your skinless assailant drives the gun into your face once more, shattering through. You suck in a sharp breath as shards of glass pierce your physical body. Bandage Girl has since respawned at this point and fishes her hand past the broken remains of the container, in an effort to pull you out. Her fingers brush against your bare skin for a mere second and she tugs sharply, wrenching a cry from you. 

It feels as though there’s a lot less of you than there was before. 

“What the hell?! What is this?!” You look to see what she’s shrieking about, swallowing the lump in your throat when you see it. The glass barely scratched you, instead, the pain of tearing flesh was due to the large crystal that she’s since forcefully ripped out. It gleams in the light, iridescent colors smothered under the blood dripping from its edges. Clouds swim in your vision as you stumble blearily, collapsing to the soft grass below.

...

The next time you awake, it’s back in your bed again. Vision in your left eye is still foggy, maybe even bloody; Because there’s some sort of red splatter positioned over the foot of your mattress... Turning over, it becomes clear that the red blob you’re seeing is your nemesis, Meat Boy. You shoot up in bed, immediately regretting this decision as a pounding migraine sets in. You grip your head, eyes screwed shut. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” You hiss through clenched teeth. 

“You… Let me in?” He says, matter-of-factly. As if you’re that stupid.

“Liar.” There’s an unopened water bottle on the bedside table. You’re quick to grab it and twist off the cap. Your hands slow. You hesitate before you could sip some much needed hydration, looking at your enemy. “What did you do?” His brow furrows as he waits for more information, making that dumb face he always does when something flies right over his head. Groaning, you hold out the bottle. “To this, you moron! What did you do to it?” Despite it having never been opened, he could’ve done something to it. You know he could’ve. There’s more ways to tamper with a product than spitting in an opened drink. This could very well be some sort of trick, why else are you both alone in _your_ private quarters?

He lets out a long sigh, “Are you serious? Why would I poison it? HOW would I poison it?” But you’re not budging. Your eyes never leave him as he reaches his hand out to you. “Look if you’re so paranoid I’ll take a sip-”

“No!” You pull the bottle away from him harshly. “If you so much as got your DNA on this piece of shoddy plastic I’ll destroy everything you love!” You concede to take what you can get. If he’s done anything to it, he’ll have hell to pay. He waits, sitting patiently for you to finish your drink, until he breaks the silence.

“Do you not remember?” Meat Boy asks. You set the half empty bottle back on the table. “I carried you here. I know you were still alive, do you just… Not remember it _after_ you die? Because _I_ remember what happens before and after my deaths I just- You haven’t seemed alright this past week.”

Thinking back, there’s a faint memory. After being thrown from your mech, a crystal burst from your eye. One from your back, and another at your shoulder. _This_ is why you don’t try to take them out, it only worsens, as though your condition gets angry, aggravated by the mere notion of trying to heal, that it explodes out into more painful fragments and smoke. It hurt so badly. You were in such a state, they were disgusted, they were horrified, they were- Pitying. You allowed them to see this, you didn’t retreat when you KNEW it was certain doom. Something twists inside you. Your chest tightens, _what did he say?_ This week? He could’ve only _known_ about this for 3 days at most! You had.. You had only died in front of him just a _few days_ ago. Your head is aching, it feels like the room is closing in on you, getting tighter, the air pushing down on you oppressively, you can’t breathe, _you can’t breathe!_

You wretch the contents of your stomach onto the floor. The putrid bile, sparkling prismatic colors, pools beneath. Your throat still burns as you dry-heave, leaned over the side of the mattress. Meat Boy is at your side now. He’s going to watch this shameful display if you don’t _do something._

You cough weakly, speaking in a near whisper to him with as much energy as you can muster, “please… Just kill me.” Meat Boy’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, gaping like a fish as he struggles to form a response. You lay back onto the pillow, eyes locked with his. “I’m going to die soon anyway, I don’t last long when this happens.” 

“I- But I- I can’t-” He fumbles with his hands over you, as if he’s trying not to even touch you. “I… I know we’ve had a rocky past, but I’m not gonna do that.”

“And why the hell not?!” You break into a coughing fit after this, more of the otherworldly substance unearthing from your throat and escaping your mouth. “How is this any different from before? You want to do something nice for me? Make it quick.” A crystal forms inside your throat, preventing any further demands. 

Regardless, Meat Boy eventually agrees, positioning himself over your form. At this closeness, you can see the bags under his eyes. It’s clear he’s had a couple sleepless nights. Such a thing comes with having an active child like his. Nugget had always been a handful when she was under your “supervision...” Being a true father must take a lot. It’s taken a toll on his body, that much is obvious. _Where’s your excuse?_ You’ve been nothing but a mess, a miserable pile of petty insults aimed at whatever god there is above. You’re a sick joke.

His fingers graze your neck. This is your special hell, isn’t it? Meat Boy’s hell is having to battle a demonic amalgamation of all his mistakes, all his slip-ups, every end he’s ever had: Every end _you’ve_ caused, one way or another. Your punishment is this. Having your ego and body flayed open for your enemies to look upon. Every imperfection under a harsh, unyielding light.

His grip tightens around your neck, you close your eyes again, allowing your frail body to succumb to asphyxiation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna be dark :]


	3. Zubeneschamali

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Fetus wakes up in a different place, met with a choice he has no say in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait asdfgh im having a moment

The steady breeze rushes over your exposed skin, leaving you shivering in response, huddling closer to the warmth enveloping you. Its embrace tightens in response, protecting you from the unrelenting wind. You’re distantly aware of being jostled, or maybe even rocked slightly. Why is it so cold? It’s too cold. It’s getting hard to breathe. The temptation to doze off is overpowering, but when you’re just on the edge of consciousness, you’re jerked back into the scene by a smack to the face. You would open your eyes to at least know your attacker’s face, but… Your eyelids are too heavy to bother. Your entire body feels like it’s sinking. The stinging pain pursues, but it does little to impede you. 

...

The next time you awake, your room is almost uncomfortably warm. Eyes still shut, you wallow in the unease. Your dream is still fresh in your brain for the time being. The scariest part in your mind perhaps, would be the inability to see. In pitch blackness, unable to garner any information on your surroundings, the feelings are all that remain. Even with the fear of experiencing that nightmare again, all you want is rest. The earthy smell of pine soothes your senses. It makes you want to sink deeper into the welcoming plushness of your bed. It’s hard to resist the urge to just pull your cozy, thick comforter over your head and-

Hold on a second… Your eyes snap open, and your suspicions are confirmed. Sitting up, it’s clear this is not your room, not your lab, not your base, not anything you’ve made. To say so would be an insult. This place is rustic, it’s unsophisticated. Light pours in through the window, the early morning sun illuminating your space. Scanning the foreign territory, your eyes notice that bottle of water, still half empty, sitting atop a wooden nightstand. In fact, nearly everything in this room is wooden… The floors, the walls, this is some kind of... Log cabin. But then that could only mean…

Footsteps swiftly approach, your head whips to the door as it creaks open, and your number one ex-captive, Bandage Girl, steps into view. Her face is pulled into a tight frown, brow furrowed, until she raises her head and her gaze lands on you, sitting straight up in bed. Her eyes light up, and she closes the door behind her. “Oh thank goodness, you’re awake,” She whispers as she rushes to your side, reaching her hand out, but you’re quick to recoil from her grasp. She looks at you strangely, an emotion you can’t quite place, especially when her expression saddens in a way that twists something inside you. You drag your body away from her side, gaze locked on her now lowered hands.

“What have you done with me? Where am I?!” Scooting farther across the mattress, the sheets rumple in your tiny balled fists when you reach the edge. Beads of sweat form on your head. There’s only so much area you can cover to put distance between you and her on this miserably small twin, but it doesn’t stop her from advancing. With less difficulty than you’re comfortable with, she leans over and grabs you.

It’s an indescribable feeling, being in enemy clutches. Perhaps the most frightening aspect of this though, is the sheer weakness. You’re completely powerless to stop her, and that tears you apart inside like a million tiny saws in a blender. Once upon a time, she was your captive, she was afraid for her immortal life at every waking moment with you. You truly had _power_ over someone for once… But now you’re completely at _her_ mercy, you’re too terrified to look her in the eyes now that your back is against the wall, your focus entirely on her hands. A humiliating shiver crawls over your defenseless form. She pulls you forward, back to where you were sleeping in the first place, and tucks you in. 

“We’re not gonna hurt you. Look, just, you should rest a bit more, okay?” You let out a pitiful noise when she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, your eyes tightly shut in irrational anticipation. The fabric frays under your fidgeting hands that grip to the comforter like a lifeline, a loose string growing longer as more of it is pulled from its delicate knitting. She places her hand over yours, stilling it. You compulsively analyze her frame. Your hands are so small in comparison, just one of her fingers dwarfs your entire palm. Hers are blocky, rough, with silky patches where the adhesive of her bandages meet; Whereas every part of your skin is equally smooth, equally untouched by age.

“Where did you… Where am I?” It’s difficult to look her in the eyes for longer than a few seconds, so your gaze shifts around the room frantically. She takes her hand off yours, moving to pluck the stray yarn from the blanket completely. 

“This is going to be Nugget’s room when she’s older. It’s a work in progress at the moment, so try not to dirty it too much! I wasn’t quite sure where you’d be staying when Meat Boy brought you here last night, though I guess this is better than leaving this room to collect dust until we’re finished renovating it!” She giggles lightly, her smile making the air around her all the more comforting to be around. She takes a step back and motions to the door. “That being said, would you like me to wake Meat Boy up? I’m sure he’d be happy to see you awake.” 

“Excuse me?” Immediately, all your paranoia surrounding your predicament return. It’s evident, even discounting the shaky tone of your voice. You scoff at her, “I think he’d be happier to see me kick the bucket in all honesty, but you go ahead with your little fantasies.” Bandage Girl looks into your eyes, with an intensity as though she is trying to look right through you. Pierce through the eyes of your exterior and witness the truly pitiful being before her. 

“Meat Boy isn’t a bad guy. He’s always looking out for those close to him. Maybe he’s too trusting for his own good, but he always sees the best in people. Sure, I’m mad at you for the past but… If he really sees something in you, then that means it’s worth giving you a shot.”

Her words make you feel… Small. You long to simply shrink into yourself and become nothing once more. This pathetic feeling has only gotten worse over time, and it tortures you to no end. Wordlessly, she leaves the room. Their muffled conversation bleeds through the walls, no words retain themselves well enough to be deciphered; Though, judging by how short the exchange was, and the footsteps that ensue, you’re going to have another visitor.

Meat Boy rushes into the room, followed by Bandage Girl, but unlike him, she remains in the doorway. He hops onto the bed and just like his wife, reaches his hand out to feel your temperature, fervently asking if you’re doing okay, or if you feel sick. His hand runs along your head, feeling for whatever it is he’s trying to feel. You smack his hand away, even as your stomach ties itself in knots at the look he gives you. It only gets worse when he notices how badly you’re shaking. It’s not that you’re cold, it’s not that you’re scared, this is nothing but instinct. When you wake up with no knowledge of how you got there, and your two lifelong enemies are standing over you, what else are you to feel? The cold facts of the situation are what’s giving you goosebumps, not fear. Meat Boy turns to look at Bandage Girl.

“Um… Bandage. could you give us a bit?” She smiles, giving you two a nod before walking out and shutting the door behind her. The air stagnates with her departure. Now it’s just you and Meat Boy.

His attention is back on you. He moves away to lean in a more casual position, one that shouts ‘I AM NOT A THREAT’ as if you were a dumb, feral fucking animal. You get what he’s going for, but it’s almost a sick joke at this point. He might as well point and laugh at you, put you in an enclosure to gawk at, make you wear a collar, learn tricks and how to resist the urge to bite. Then again, if you can’t help but react aggressively to any less than violent touch, maybe you really are a dog, born from pavlovian conditioning.

“I know you probably… Weren’t expecting this but... “ He takes in a deep breath. “After seeing how bad off you were, I just thought it’d be best to bring you here. I wanted you to respawn here instead. I’ve already talked it over with BG, you can stay here for as long as you like.” Despite the calming nature of the words, his voice is frantic, trying to quell any suspicions you may have. Your eyes widen in disbelief. Every train of thought you were busy having just crashed and burned over his words. Stay? With them?

“You… What?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, alright? We’ve just noticed some… Things happening. Every time you’ve died, it’s like your body just... Gets overrun by these… Crystals.” He goes into more unwanted detail. The thought of your corpse just laying there, having more and more of the bismuth sprout from your empty vessel, makes you sick. Perhaps sensing your discomfort, he goes on to tell you about the other anomalies: The birds frozen in the air, frozen in time. Moments where he thought he saw you, only for you to be gone in the blink of an eye. They want you here so they can make sure you aren’t pulling any strings behind it all. Well, he didn’t say that but it’s fairly clear what the intentions are with keeping you here. Even so, being a part of their lives in this kind of way makes you lightheaded. 

“So… Would that be alright?” He reaches his hand out to you, cautiously this time, waiting for you to slap it away again, and when you don’t, rests it over yours.

You stare into his eyes, seeing that concerned but comforting glint there. You’d never admit how much you wanted to be taken care of. The idea of ruining their nuclear family dynamic pleases you to a certain extent anyway, you just never thought it’d go like this, becoming one with their daily lives. Initially, you were going to vehemently refuse, but you suppose you don’t really have a choice in the matter after all. Even if you did say no, what are you going to do? Waltz on back home? One of them would probably have to carry you. Dear god, you do _not_ want them to carry you.

After brief hesitation, you nod slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speedruns how to get better at writing fanfic.  
> hoping i can write at least 2k to 4k words per chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that's good for a first chapter hoohoohoo 
> 
> I've never uploaded my works to ao3 until now so!! let's hope the formatting is good


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